Page 99 of Outcast
“Axel’s pan, I think. He told me he doesn’t label it, but he gets around.”
“Oh.” Emory gave my brother a second glance. “Interesting.”
“Not too interesting, I hope,” I said lightly. “I share a lot of things with my brothers, but boyfriends ain’t one of them.”
Emory whipped his head back toward me. “What? No, I— Wait.Boyfriend?”
I clamped my jaw shut and glared over at Axel for being so damn hot that I went and said something so stupid.
“Gray?”
“You know what I mean,” I grumbled. “We said we’d be exclusive.”
“We are,” Emory shook his head, looking baffled. “Don’t you know that I can’t think about anyone but you? I’m not ever going to mess around with your brother. This might be casual, but it’s notthatcasual, is it?”
“No,” I said, reaching for his hand. “It was a stupid thing to say. You just…you’re worth so much better than me that I get a little unsure of myself.”
“That’s not true at all, Gray. If anyone deserves more, it’s you. God. I’m in the stupid closet because I don’t know how to break out of this ‘perfect’ life of mine,” he said, using air quotes. “I’m so afraid of disappointing people that I just settle for disappointing myself again and again. But you’re theoneexception because I can’t walk away.”
I stood up, grabbing his hand to pull him from the table. “Okay, I’m convinced. Let’s get out of here so I can kiss the shit out of you.”
Emory laughed as I half dragged him toward the door. “What about your brothers?”
“We already established you’re not fucking them.”
“Gray!”
I cast a look back to see Bailey getting a lecture from Holden while Axel got his own telling off by the sexy deputy—and looked fairly happy about it too.
“Show’s over. They’re fine. Axel looks like he’s going to eat Dalton Harvey with a spoon.” I pulled open the door. “I’m more interested in a private show, if you take my meaning.”
Emory’s eyes glinted as he went out the door ahead of me. “Well, I’d be a fool to argue with that.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE
Emory
Gray pickedup my laptop bag—still lying on the front passenger seat—as he climbed into my car.
“Just toss it in the back,” I said, hitting the Start button and checking my rearview mirror.
While I reversed out of the parking spot, Gray moved in my peripheral vision, twisting to put my bag in the back.
“Whoops. Something fell out.” I glanced over to see him holding my sketch pad. “What’s this?”
“Oh, that’s nothing,” I said quickly. “Just throw it?—”
Gray flipped it open, whistling through his teeth as he got a look at the first page. “Holy hell, golden boy. You said you were an artist, but I had no idea you were this good.”
I hit the blinker and checked the road before turning onto the blacktop that ran alongside the pool hall. “It’s not a big deal. I just do it to relax.”
“You’re pretty damn talented,” Gray said as he turned the page. “These almost look like…”
He trailed off, as if uncertain of himself.
“Tattoos?” I prompted with a self-conscious chuckle. “Yeah, your ink inspired me, I guess. I’ve been doodling some designs.”
“You call this doodling?” He snorted. “They’re gorgeous, Emory. I mean, I know not everyone respects tattoo art, and it’s not like I know much about other art forms, but I can tell you from the perspective of a guy who gets a lot of ink that these are really impressive.”
